Decision
by LadyGuardianPhoenix
Summary: Kenshin has to come to terms with his own nightmares, and make a decision about what he wants his future to be. KK. One-Shot. Post-Jinchyuu Arc. As always, standard disclaimers apply.


- double checks -

Nope. Still don't own Rurouni Kenshin. Please don't sue me. I live on ramen as it is.

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_Damn it!_

I lay on the futon, my wife sleeping quietly at my side. I silently will my muscles to unclench. I slow my breathing and wait for my heart to calm.

_Damn these nightmares. Damn them. Damn them!_

Silently, willing my wife to remain deep in her own heavy slumber, I slip from beneath the top futon and onto the woven strands of the tatami, my sakabatou clenched in my fist. I glance at her sleeping figure, and assured that I have not disturbed her, I creep out of our room onto the wide verandah.

I will not sleep again this night.

Instead, I find myself in a spot I often occupied in the years before I married the beautiful woman sleeping inside. I will spend this night, as I have so many recently, leaning against the wall of the dojo, waiting for the stars to fade and the sun to rise again.

The world around me is silent; even the crickets have sung their last lullaby, and it will be some time before the morning birds arise to wake the world with their cheery songs. For now, the only sounds are the voices in my head, and they are screaming.

_Damn these dreams. And damn me for deserving them. _

After all these years, there are still times when I wake at night, drenched in sweat, desperate to escape, to get away, to flee. I feel hands at my throat, always waiting, always preparing to strangle my breath from me, always ready to choke me on my own screams. I feel the shadow of death standing over me, watching, waiting, ready for any slip, for any chink in my armor.

It will win, of course. Eventually. Death always does.

Being with her, though, has made it easier. I cannot know peace; I have strayed too long into the fires of war and tasted too much of blood and suffering. I cannot forget all that I have done, and it haunts me. But when I am with her, I feel calm. She warms me in a way that a thousand bonfires never could. When she is near, I cannot help but be aware of the all of the many good things still left in this world, that there are things and people and places not tainted by the red stain.

But then, to me, she is my entire world. Were anything to happen to her...

_Oh, Kami-sama, don't think about that._

I shift restlessly on the verandah. There's a light breeze this evening; warm overtones with just a hint of the bite of winter. Summer is fading and soon, it will be fall.

Fall. Then winter. Then spring. And summer again.

_Will I live that long?_

_Will she?_

I often find her waking me when the dreams threaten to overwhelm me. At first, I was afraid of her touching me as I slept, terrified that in my dream-trapped state, I might mistake her for an old enemy and...react accordingly.

It hasn't happened yet. I pray that it never will, for although I long to scold her for her lack of caution, I cannot stop her. She has a strength of will that surpasses even my own. And when it comes to someone she considers _hers_, well...Kami-sama help anyone who gets in her way. She is a possessive woman, that she is. That which is hers, only death can take away, and even then it's not a sure thing.

The pregnancy has been difficult for her, though. She is often tired. Lately, she has taken to instructing Yahiko from the sidelines. She says it's because she's too ungainly to wield her bokken properly; I know it's because even walking is an effort for her. I often carry her to our futon in the evenings after she nods off on the verandah. Yahiko has taken to overseeing her other students without even needing to be asked. Even Sano behaves when he comes around to the dojo. We all act as though we think she will break, when, in reality, she will probably outlast us all.

She says we're being overprotective. I don't say anything. How can I possibly put it all into words?

If I try to explain it to her, she'll just look puzzled. She thinks that anyone would have taken in a pickpocket and turned him into a respectable young man; she believes that everyone can tell that Sano may have a rough exterior, but also has a good heart and an unwavering loyalty. And she actually thinks that I'm someone that anyone could love. She thinks that we're all worthy of her.

Amazing.

And if I should try to explain these things to her, she won't quite be able to understand that no one had ever believed it of any of us before her. She just won't get it. 

But that's one of the things I love about her the most: she always believes the best in all people, even in killers, thieves and gangsters. It just isn't in her to think anything else, even if she acknowledges that there are some truly evil people in the world.  She seems to think that everyone has some redeeming quality. 

I think about her often, especially on nights like this, when I cannot sleep.

I am glad that she hasn't woken up these past few nights; she needs her rest. Megumi hasn't said anything specific, but I dislike the hard frown she gets on her face after examining my wife. I don't like the worry lines that mar the good doctor's expression when she observes Kaoru's slow-moving form. I dislike even more, though, that Megumi will not explain her concerns to me and will only say that Kaoru should rest as much as possible and be very careful about how much exercise she does.

I would carry Kaoru all the time, but she would laugh at me for even suggesting it; it terrifies me to think of what she might do if I ever suggested that she take a break from teaching kenjutsu.

But I am worried, that I am.

My dreams, never pleasant to begin with, have come at me more ruthlessly these past few weeks than they have in years. When I am finally startled awake, I often find myself curled into a ball, clutching my sakabatou. I am as tense as I was during the Bakumatsu, when sleep was an expensive commodity that death could make permanent at any time.

I can never get back to sleep after the nightmares.

Sometimes, when I wake up, I lay next to her, trying to memorize the contours of her body. The slope of her nose, the curve of her cheek, the way her lips are softly parted when she sleeps... Her belly has slowly swelled over the past months, and when I awake, I often find one of her hands cradling the mound that carries our child, a little smile curving the corners of her mouth. I tuck myself in close to her then and slide my hand up to cover hers and wait out the long night.

Sometimes, she still wakes up, much like she did before the pregnancy. She is aware of me in a way that would have astonished even Shishou. I know it astonishes me. She opens her beautiful eyes and smiles at me in that soft way of hers that says everything. Sometimes, she'll take my hand in hers and place a kiss in my palm before gathering my hand to her breast.

Her heartbeat is as constant as her love.

She is my home.

I never tell her about the dreams, and she doesn't ask. On those nights, I want only to hold her, to have her hold me, and to remember that there is a world beyond the battlefield.

But now that she is pregnant, I truly hate the idea of waking her, so lately, I find myself outside, alone on the verandah.

Tonight is no different. I settle myself in on the wooden planks and try to contemplate the stars even as I try to overcome the terror that accompanies these nightmares. I long for my wife's touch, soothing my fears away. I long to hold her in my arms and to be reassured that the old bloody days are over. I ache with longing for her.

But I will not disturb her slumber. She must rest, if only for a while. She cares so little for herself...

My dreams lately have bothered me more than any of the others. I have not been so frightened since Enishi. Yes, frightened.

_I am afraid._

Lately, all I dream about is Kaoru. In my dreams, she is every person I've ever killed. I see her face contorting with pain, hear her screams as my _katana_ cuts the silver thread of her life.

And in her eyes, I see who I was. I see the cold Hitokiri Battousai, the slayer of men, too numbed by bloodshed and pain to fully comprehend the suffering of others.

In my dreams, I kill her. I kill her as I killed Tomoe.

I kill her. And it's so easy.

I wake up, the metallic scent of blood clogging my nostrils. Each time, I feel my gorge rise and it's a struggle not to vomit on the tatami next to our futon.

The look of betrayal in her eyes, the face contorted with a pain I caused... 

I see myself for the monster I was, the monster I know I can become again. I fear myself. But most of all, I fear what I could do to her so easily.

_Oh, Kami, I could bear anything, any pain, any torture, even hell itself, but not that. I cannot bear to see her suffering, even in my dreams._

And now, there is the child, as well.

_Oh, Kami-sama..._

What if another swordsman bearing a grudge comes along? What if, in his rage to kill me, he harms Kaoru or the baby? What if I cannot save them?

_My fault...my fault...all my fault_...

What if I am forced to become Battousai again? What if I should do something to hurt her or the little one?

_I could never forgive myself._

What if I am called away again? What if another Shishio rises and I am needed? She would follow me, I know, and be in danger. But what if I should fail and not return to her? Who would protect her and our child? But what if I don't go to face down these men? Will they seek me out? Will they go after my family?

_I am a fool_.

What if something goes wrong during the next few months of the pregnancy? What if the thing Megumi is worried about is serious? What if Kaoru miscarries because she's been working too hard? She always works too hard.

_She gives too much. I take too much._

What if something happens during the birth? Women die all the time in childbirth; babies, too. I could lose them both.

_I could lose them both._

_I could lose them both._

It would kill me.

And what if...

What the...?!? 

I nearly jump out of my skin as I feel her hands slide around my waist to clutch at my chest as she presses her face to my back. My heart is racing again. I did not even sense her presence behind me.

"Can you not sleep, anata," she whispers, more a statement than a question. I enfold her hands in my own, clutching them to my chest for dear life.

"You should be in bed, that you should..." I begin.

"I sleep all the time, Kenshin," she chuckles. "A few moments of consciousness isn't going to kill me."

_Kill me...kill me...kill me..._

Stop it.

I unconsciously clench at her hands and I feel her go very still behind me.

"Kenshin," she says, her voice more serious than I have heard it in a long time, "look at me."

"It's nothing," I hasten to reassure her. "Just a bad dream. Probably from that second helping of beef pot from the Akkabeko."

She is quiet for a long moment, and just when I am sure she bought my story, she leans into my ear and whispers softly.

"I cannot bear it that you would lie to me, and so easily, anata."

I wince. I've hurt her.

_Damn it. Damn me._

"Look at me Kenshin," she orders me again, softly, but with steel in her voice. I turn slowly, reluctantly, and lift my gaze to hers.

Her eyes are so very blue...

She studies me for a long time. I have no clue what she is looking for. Whatever it is, I hope she finds it. Maybe, if she does, she can explain it to me. It would be nice if someone had the answers I need.

_I am so afraid... _

She cocks her head to the side just a bit and her brow wrinkles in concentration. A little frown tugs at the corners of her mouth, and I am reminded suddenly of Megumi's recent scowls when she looks at Kaoru.

She finally breaks eye contact as she shifts to sit down next to me, her round stomach making her normally graceful movements unusually clumsy. I reach out to help her, but she bats my hands lightly away.

We sit there, quietly in the dark, not touching, not talking, not moving. I want to break the silence, but it's her move, not mine.

And so, I wait.

I could wait for her forever and not consider a single moment wasted.

"Will you tell me?" she whispers.

"Tell you what?" I'm hedging. I know she'll get it out of me; she is the only thing I have no defense for.

"Hmm..." she mutters. I say nothing. I'm afraid to speak, afraid to tell her, but I want to, so very, very much. But how do I begin? How do I even begin to explain the things that terrify me so badly that I fear to even think them?

We are silent for a long time. I shift uncomfortably on the verandah, and begin to think of ways to gently direct my very pregnant wife back into the safety and warmth of our futon.

But she's not ready to go in yet.

"It's not fair of me to ask, not really," Kaoru says softly, startling me out of my reverie. "I haven't told you of my own dreams; how can I expect you to share yours? We both have our secrets, our pasts. How can I expect you to share your burdens with me when I have not shared my own?"

"Kaoru..." I say, surprised. What secrets could she possibly have? And she should know that she doesn't have to tell me anything she doesn't want to. There is nothing she could say that would make me ever consider her to be less of a person.

"There are some things I think you should know.  I've done things that I'm not proud of, Kenshin," she says, waving off my protests. "Long before you and Yahiko and Sanosuke and Megumi, it was just me here, alone. I've lived in this dojo all my life, as my father and mother lived here before me. It was my father who started this school, who taught me so much about how to live."

She smiles, her eyes looking at something I cannot see. There is a soft quality to that smile, as though remembering some long-gone happiness. There is a sadness to it that makes me ache to reach out and touch her mouth, to ease the lines of tension around her eyes.

"I suppose I should begin with my mother, but I don't remember her, not really. She died when I was very young. And because I was always at the dojo with my father, I never went to play with the other little girls, so I never got to meet any of their mothers, either. In some ways, I suppose you could say that it's a miracle that I have any feminine qualities at all."

She chuckles a little, a wry grin quirking her lips. But then her eyes became distant again, and I knew she was no longer seeing me; she was looking at some other time, some other place, long before I'd known her.

"My father was my sun and my moon," she whispers. "My world began and ended with him, and when he died and I was left here all alone, I thought I would die, too. Dr. Genzai made me eat when he could, and at first, the neighbors came around, but after a while, it was only me at the dojo.

"I didn't eat much. I slept a lot, or I didn't sleep at all. I didn't practice. I saw my _otousan_ in everything. And every morning, I would wake up and wonder, would today be the day that things would get better, or would it still be as bleak as all the days before?

"I thought all the time during those days. No, I didn't think; not really. I _wallowed_. Kenshin, I was miserable and trapped and I knew it. And what's more, I didn't care. The dojo could have burned down around me and I wouldn't have even tried to get out."

She is quiet for a moment, letting this sink in. She folds her hands neatly in her lap and sighs. It is strange, but I can see this in my mind's eye. When she loves, she loves completely, and loss of that affection for any reason is enough to cause her significant pain.

Perhaps it could even kill her.

_Kill her_. _Oh, Kami..._

"I had never been so alone in all my life," she whispers. "I would wake in the night, scared that someone had gotten into the dojo. I had awful dreams about my father's death. I was afraid of...afraid..."

She trails off for a moment, closing her eyes as if against some harsh memory. Then, she takes a deep breath and continues.

"I was afraid of everything. And I mean _everything,_ Kenshin," she said quietly. "What if I couldn't live up to the standards of Kamiya Kasshin Ryu? What if I was unable to make a living off the dojo? What if I got sick or injured while I was alone? What if someone tried to hurt me or take advantage of me? What if someone tried to close down the dojo? What if I lost my students? What if I failed my father? What if...what if...what if.

"I spent a lot of time on this porch, just like you are now. I wanted to go back to when things were simpler, to when my father was alive and the only thing I had to worry about was perfecting my stance.

"Funny thing, though – I couldn't. But I certainly didn't think I could go forward, either. So I sat on the porch and thought a lot about all the things I was afraid of. I thought of all the bad things that I was absolutely positive would happen to me the minute I got up."

It is strange for me to think of Kaoru as anything but the competent and cheery shihondai I know and love. Even when she is in a strange situation, she still manages to handle it with a grace and aplomb that any diplomat would envy. What she is telling me simply does not mesh with what I know of her personality.

But then, I have to remember Kyoto...

Oh, Kami, when she crashes, she crashes hard...

_Kami protect her. Protect her even from me..._

"Then, one day, I was wandering around the house as I often did in those days. I would just start walking as though I had something I had to do, only hours later, I'd still be walking.

"But on this day, I somehow ended up in the dojo. And as I looked around, it was as though I could hear my father calling out orders. I could see the students in their lines, bokkens held at the ready, waiting for the moment to strike. I could see it all, just as it had been.

"And suddenly, I couldn't take it any more. I grabbed a bokken and started smashing things.

"I'm not proud of myself. I went a little crazy that day. I only stopped when the bokken shattered, and yes, I mean _shattered_. Then I just sat there in that huge mess and cried. I cried for hours. I felt I'd let my father down, my family down, my school and my students down. I was sure that even my mother would be disappointed in the mess of a daughter she'd borne.

"But suddenly, I was tired of the 'What ifs'. I was sick of feeling sorry for myself.

"So I decided, then and there, to stop. It was a conscious decision, Kenshin. I had to face everything that was ugly and hard about my life. My father was dead. My mother was dead. I have no other living relatives. No one was going to take care of me.

"I remember that I had my father's katana in one hand and my broken bokken in the other. And so it came down to one simple choice: I could kill myself then and there, or I could get on with the business of living.

"You have no idea how hard a decision that was for me."

_What?_

She is quiet for a long time. She will not look at me, even though I am staring, open-mouthed at her. This is inconceivable. This is impossible. This makes no sense.

And then I realize: she is ashamed.

The silence stretches out, and I long to reach out, to touch her hand or to gather her into my embrace.

But I cannot touch her.

She sits there on our verandah, her head tilted back and studying the stars. There is a sadness to her expression that I have never seen before, a soul-deep pain that she must have borne alone throughout all the years since her father died. It is a suffering that I have never thought she might be enduring, silently.

I am such a fool. How could I have not seen her pain? How could I not realize that her life must have been hard?

"Stop it, Kenshin."

_What?_

I glance at her, startled. Her voice is harder than I have ever heard it. But she is not looking at me. Her gaze is trained on the heavens, her back is straight and unbowed, her hands lay calmly in her lap.

"Stop it," she repeats, softer this time. "I didn't tell you this so that you would have another reason to blame yourself. I hardly ever think of this old sadness anymore. And besides, it was never a thing you were responsible for. You didn't even know I existed then. So stop it.

"And I'm very much alive, am I not, anata?" and she casts a long, coy gaze over her shoulder at me, a wry grin pulling at the corners of her mouth as she arches an eyebrow and lightly pats her swollen belly.

"No, anata," she murmurs, again turning her gaze heavenward, "I chose to live."

"Why?"

It takes me a long moment to realize that the whispered question came from my lips.

She is silent again, for longer this time. It is my turn to wait for her, and I will give her all the time she needs. I will wait for her forever.

"You know, I don't really know how to answer that, Kenshin," she says eventually, a small self-deprecating smile on her lips. "But I made a choice as I was sitting in the dojo, surrounded by broken wood and old memories.

"My father had struggled so long on his own, he had raised a girl child, and taught a form of swordsmanship that called for defense during an era where offense was a way of life. He had lived through lean times when we barely had enough to eat, and sad times, like when my mother died. But he _lived_, Kenshin. He lived.

"And me? I loved my father. I love him still. And he loved me, loved me enough to teach me to take care of myself, to know myself, to trust myself.

"The greatest gift my father gave me was _me_.

"So I stopped crying. I got up. I walked over to my father's nameplate on the wall and I took it down.

"Then I picked up every piece of wood, scrubbed every surface, polished every inch of the dojo until it shined. And by the time I left the dojo that night, it was pitch black and I was exhausted, but I was alive. For the first time in a long time, _I was alive._

"I spent the next week taking care of everything I'd been neglecting, the house, the yard, the outbuildings. And the week after that, I went around to all of the homes of my father's students and reminded them that it was time for them to come back to the dojo.

"It was a humbling experience. Some people laughed at me. Some practically threw me out of their homes, calling me a beggar. Some offered me money, and twice, I was even propositioned. Several families wanted me to marry one of their sons, hoping they'd get the dojo. But the pitying looks were the worst.

"I am a proud woman, Kenshin, and it was so difficult for me to go to these people, to ask them to believe in me when there were times I could barely believe in myself. There were moments in those early days when I wondered if I'd made the right decision.

"But then, some of the students started to come back, especially the older ones who I used to spar with, and the very young ones, who I'd been teaching long before my father died.

"I am a good teacher, Kenshin. Oh, I may not be the greatest shihondai to ever hold a bokken, but I am a good teacher. And the students who came back knew this. And soon, other people began to realize this, too. Things got a little easier after a while. There were times when it was still hard, and I was often lonely, but I had made my choice. And I passed several years in relative contentment until that unpleasant business with Gohei...but you already know about that."

And she grins and winks at me ever so briefly. Leave it to my wife to be playful even when she's serious.

"Sometimes, I get sad still," she says softly, looking away again. "My father was such a wonderful man, and I wish you could have met him. I wish he could meet his grandchild. I wish I could show him how much I've grown, and ask him if I make him proud. I wish I could thank him. I wish...I wish...I wish."

And she sighs quietly, looking down at her hands.

"You make me so happy, anata," she murmurs. "The fact that you're with me, that you care for me, these things fill me up so much that I can barely feel any sorrow. Sometimes, I am afraid that if I am too happy, the kami will become jealous and take you from me. And sometimes, I wonder if I have a right to be so happy when I can sense such pain and suffering in you.

"I do not know what I can do to ease your grief. My sorrows were different than yours, my suffering unlike your own.

"But one day, my dearest husband, you are going to have to make a choice. You are going to have to decide what it is that you want. You can live in the world of your memories, or you can live in this one.

"Whatever you choose, whenever you choose it, I will understand. And I will love you forever, regardless."

And with that, she rocks back on her heels and slowly, awkwardly stands. I reach for her, but she gently waves me off.

"Kaoru..." I start, but there are no words after that. I have no words...

She leans down carefully, cupping my face in her hands.

"My beloved. The only thing you ever had to do to make me happy was to be happy yourself. It is the only thing I ask of you."

Then her hands slip away and she moves slowly to the shoji, leaving me staring at her retreating form.

Just as she slides open the panel, she pauses and glances over her shoulder.

"I'll be waiting."

And then she is gone, and I am left, alone.

_Alone_.

No.

I am not alone.

And I will not let her be alone, either. We will never have to suffer alone again. I will not allow it. Neither, I see now, will she.

I am on my feet and hurrying after her before I even realize I've already made my decision. I catch up to her long before she reaches our room. Her slow, shuffling gait drives a pang of worry into my heart, but before she even knows I am there, I am lifting her into my arms, cradling her precious weight to me.

"My wonderful wife," I murmur into her hair. "What would I be without you?"

I carry her into our room and lay her gently down. She is quiet, studying my face as I let myself down beside her.

"Will you tell me?"

"You should rest."

"Will you tell me?"

"They're so terrible."

She takes my face in her hands. Her small, calloused hands.

"Will you tell me?" Her voice is so soft I can barely hear it, even in the silent room.

"I don't know if I have the words," I finally whisper.

"Will you try?"

I pull her close to me and gently touch my forehead to hers.

"Yes. For you, I will try."

And I do. I try to tell her about the nightmares, and about my fears. I try to tell her of the horrors of the bakumatsu and of my life after. I try.

Sometimes, I run out of words or I begin to feel myself get trapped in the memories, but then she's there, touching my face or my hand, looking at me with those wise blue eyes.

And I talk. And talk.  I have never spoken so much in all my life.

I speak until I am hoarse, until even my whispers die away into the shadowed corners of the room. I speak until there are no more words, until there is only silence, and I am left to lie there, studying my wife as she studies me.

She looks so tired.

_Damn_.

It was never my intention to keep her awake so long. She must rest. It's not good for her to be up so late.

And then, as though reading my thoughts, she smiles, and it's like dawn has broken into the room. She smiles and I realize that she's not the only one who is exhausted.

_I am so tired. So very tired._

"You are my whole world," I whisper softly. "You are my life."

I kiss her face gently.

"Get some rest, beloved. You will not be able to yell at Yahiko if you are exhausted. Tomorrow is a new day."

She smiles.

"Baka Kenshin," she gently teases, "It already is."

And she's right.


End file.
